


Chained

by KatherineShep



Series: Larien Shepard [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-24
Updated: 2018-08-24
Packaged: 2019-07-02 00:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15785154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KatherineShep/pseuds/KatherineShep
Summary: A story of one Turian having a very non-Turian obsession...





	Chained

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to finally begin posting those 100500 drafts about my Shepard that demand to be finished. Wanted to give my posting some chronological order, but it most likely won't happen. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy this piece!
> 
> Thanks to amazing @bioticsblue for Beta-reading!

Sometimes it startles him how fast alien aesthetics has settled in his life with one very special woman. It is truly incredible - to have a close glimpse at Shepard anytime, to enjoy her soft features, staring at her shamelessly long and earning a small smile from her because she lifted her head from her datapad and noticed his gaze. Garrus didn't even realize how much he missed her smile until it was her greeting to him on Menae: a smile full of heart, with tension and worry previously engraved in Shepard's features but now melting into relief. And damn if it wasn't the most beautiful thing to see on that Spirits-forgotten moon. Since the beginning of the war Garrus was one of the few people in the Universe burdened with knowledge of their true chances against the Reapers, but he held his humble, almost atheistic prayers and there had always been a place for Shepard... And then somehow she was there beside him, alive, composed, determined, to help to protect a part of his own world.

The living, distinctive and warning red of her hair was the weirdest thing to see on Palaven's satellite - a shade out of place, but so very needed. The unbroken passion in her actions was more encouraging than any news; Garrus hoped his comrades listened to him when he was speaking of her once as both hope and a cleansing flame. And then she had proven his words in front of them, storming through Reaper forces and finding a new Primarch for a deal no one had made before. Always incredible, she came back into Garrus's life, and the weight of the war eased for a bit from his shoulders. Not only because it was the world's Commander Shepard, but also because it was his Shepard, his Larien, once a hole in his heart, now healed.

Like three years ago, like now Garrus wonders about those fiery strands that frame Shepard's face - very gentle and supple, if you take one and try to bend it in your fingers, but also stubborn enough to stick to the sides if Shepard hasn't had the time to brush them properly after washing. Not that Garrus doesn't like her hair in its ordinary neat shape, but when it is sticking to the sides, it gives him sweet flashbacks of their first night together when Shepard's hair was wet from the shower she took - it gave her the most heartmeltingly frail look Garrus could ever imagine. Her hair also gets adorably messy after every shore mission because of the static electricity from biotics, having given Shepard a habit of unconsciously running through it with her fingers every now and then. Front strands curl on the ends just below her jawbone because Shepard tucks them sometimes behind her ears: when Garrus saw her at his base, her hair was longer than he remembered, and she kept it that way even though now it tends to get before her eyes even more often, needing to be put out of the way. Garrus thinks it'd be a shame for it to be cut off to it's old shortness - he has grown to love it: the texture to touch, the way it flows through his fingers when he can't help but to gently rub it while Shepard is sleeping in his embrace, the copper hues his eyes feast upon, shining red or brown depending on lighting, and even the sharp, salty scent of ozone, lingering on her hair after her biotic attacks.

His affection for Shepard's appearance is so non-Turian that some would call him a pervert. Garrus doesn't care: he becomes drunk on the dark green of her eyes, on the tiny lines appearing between her eyebrows when Shepard's frowning, on the scent of her skin - sweet warmth and flowery soap - and on those weird human kisses that in Shepard's adaptation have become a thing for him to enjoy too. His timid happiness in all this war-brought mess lives in a proper, shamelessly posessive touch to her firm and strong waist with tight muscles tangible under her smooth skin. In that hold of him it seems that Shepard is safe, protected from the crap she deals with every day, and that she'll never vanish from him ever again, even with all the odds of this devastating war. He wants to hope she won't and his heart painfully twitches at a mere thought of that possibility when she gets hurt on the field.

Shepard had once seemed incredibly soft and fragile to him, especially after he had lost her once and never could even hope to see again; fragile even with all the knowledge of this woman's strength Garrus had had earlier. Not only Shepard went through death and revival - the events of that cursed year of 2185 seemed to kill and revive him too, leaving them both devastated and clinging onto each other. Before he dared to come to her cabin, Garrus was both longing and worried about how "them" is really going to work - from all the laws of nature, he seemed to be far from a perfect choice for her. It was Shepard who got to decide, to end their awkward dancing around and get his infatuation with her to a logical and very desirable conclusion. Because, as it turned out, Shepard's yearning for him had a physical side too. That didn't help to feel less awkward at starting a cross-species liaison, but at least he was not alone there, hesitating and still willing to cross the line.

Then Garrus had learnt she wasn't that soft - when she held his hips between her taut thighs and kissed him hungrily with her pliant human lips like the sharpness of his mouth plates meant nothing to her, and when she was panting for breath and pressing herself into him much more than it seemed safe considering all his body plating, when her every move with him was a sign of pleasure and gratitude, and a plea for more. Garrus was taking what Shepard was giving, and enjoyed, and figured that their recently obtained fondness of each other was a perfectly organic match. 

And to hell with biology differences, when she stretches in the bed beside him, a small but strong woman in the best of her grace, with her eyes gleaming of delight and looking at Garrus with affection that makes his heart clench. To hell with everything, when he grabs her at her round hip and she responds with a pleasured exhale and a smile if Garrus makes her feel his claws, when Shepard caresses his neck with her kisses the way it drives him mad, when her hand nudges his cheek and he feels the tenderness of this touch not with his face plates, but with his heart. Everything about Shepard is a turn-on, and by the way her gaze fills with longing when their talks turn to a naughty route, Garrus suspects he is that for her too.

He's positively sure that the nature has made them both for each other.

And he's grateful to his life for having led him Shepard's way.


End file.
